Suspended Sentence – Part 2

Part 2
1925, 20 Jun 45, Base Gold Four, American Zone of Occupation

“… Right. Aside from d-driving on the wrong side, you Yanks make excessive sp- speeding into an art form!” exclaimed Griffin, “’Twas all my poor driver could do to remain caught up!” “We’re here an additional 12 minutes earlier, and,” watching the medics carry off Herr Schmidt on a litter, “we can have him around and hopefully talking in time to learn the real story.” After a short wait, the senior medic reported. “He came around fine, sir, with a shot of Benzedrine and some B complex. We don’t have enough plasma on hand, but he’s awake and alert. I think soup and a couple of sandwiches should work wonders on him; not unexpected, given his past year or two. Start feeding him up, slow and easy. Ah, with respect, sir, please go easy on him at first? His pulse is still shaky, and he looks like death warmed over.” Sellers snorted. “No, Doc, your perfect streak will stay unbroken. Dismissed.”

Announcing a quick “Setten sie, bitte,” Griffin preceded Sellers into the debriefing room. Johannes sat almost at attention, his third bowl of soup and second sandwich waiting on a tray on the large table. “Herr Schmidt, while our Oberst here doesn’t speak German well, I took a degree at Heiedelberg and studied at the Kreigschule near Potsdam. After the last six years and loss of too many Kameraden, do not think you’ll evade my questions. We could simply end you, or return you to the Soviets.” Johannes’ eyes widened, and he sat at near-rigid attention. “Yes, sir, I – I –I understand complete.” Griffin relaxed slightly, “we’re not uncivilized, and you look as if you need a good year’s worth of meals. Please, continue eating, and we will have some polite conversation at the table, yes?”

After a few more bites (not unlike a starved dog), Griffin cleared his throat slightly and began. “You’re from Silesia, but I dare say you have relatives nearby. By chance or by circumstance?”

Swallowing, Johannes replied: “Both. An uncle and aunt on my mother’s side live or lived nearer to Schweinfurt. My father and the family were ordered west, to clear the defense zones. They were coming here; that was December I think?”

“Yet you were held back as a driver, I imagine. What did you drive, and for what company?”

Snort. “Lo Verheistung. As my papers note, last service was with the 362nd Transport Company. Your aircraft has bombed and gunned my lorries – five times. Four times I was out fast, one time – slower. Shrapnel in leg. I drove a cart and mule team, until they became soup in February. Albert and Herman – good beasts, but no fodder, and troops were so hungry. Roads wrecked, we carried what we could on foot. Always short east, then longer to west.”

“And then by a miracle, you were sent not to the front with a Mauser and boys, but … discharged. That’s seems quite improbable, so tell me please, what caused this?”

A look of pain and suffering. “Ja, shrapnel wound heals slowly. But head – last bomb, slow? Head feels like wet clay, some days. Hard to think fast or clear. Dissassembled? Nein,”

drawing a deliberate breath, “discharged, sent to rear. Unable to lead squad, leg slowed down too much. Not left with rifle and clip. Orders came late, but Uma note said not worry, alles en ordnung.” He shivered at this, and ate some more hot soup.

“Your grandmother? Your papers indicate a humble life, Herr Schmidt, and a working- class family with that much influence would not be in this dire condition. Who is she, if you please?”

Another shiver, and a moderate drink of coffee later, Johannes’ face took on enough color to answer. “It is hard to understand – not say, understand; older story, Barbarossa …” he muttered, staring through the wall into a distant nightmare. “Uma – Grandmother – She — adopt me, said I was good boy, all will be well. Asked to bring her tea, good tea. She – natural forces? Pechta?” he whispered, looking around furtively.

“Force of nature is our expression, and she sounds like my departed Great-Gran.” Griffin chuckled, but the look and sudden drop in his voice … “Excuse me a moment, please.” He wrote a quick note; Sellers nodded and called out the door, asking Collins to take this up the hall for action.

“I get here, farm cart first, but then walk slow, bad leg. So tired. Find bicycle, go more. Nothing left, have to go west, Ami ober Britischer, find tea, good tea, buy for her? But then Soviet patrol take me. Leutnant ask many questions about me, where I go, what I have. Not believe papers, call me black market man – deal? Seller.”

“These papers?”

                           Headquarters
                NKVD Directorate 3, Forward Det
                CCCP Occupation Forces, Berlin

Date: 15 May 1945 
No: DE-PS045-4415-01-033-002

Name: Schmidt, Johannes
DOB: 06 Mar 1921
Age: 24
Origin: Silesia, Polish People’s Republic

1. SCHMIDT discharge confirmed by German records.  Severe
injuries limit work duties possible.  No indication of Party
leadership or duties.  Re-education not necessary.

2. SCHMIDT authorized travel (group D) within Zone of
Occupation, purpose, reunification with family.  Air and rail
travel prohibited.

3. SCHMIDT authorized permission to apply for entry to American
Zone of Occupation, with personal possessions, purpose,
reunification with family.  Authorized return to Soviet Zone of
Occupation with personal possessions.  [Letter, 14 Mar 1945,
Frau Gaithler].

.. .

“Yes! My Army discharge and the travel permission were in order. But he wanted the bicycle, and stopped me from west to roadblock. I come for relatives, but … they beat on me. I say, also for Granny. She wanted good tea, real tea, had none for many years. I couldn’t stop talking; they hurt my bad leg.

He, Leutnant, laugh and say something in Russian. Then … he see silver chain and charm. Leutnant swear. Then he say in German and Russian, “you are looter, and black market dealer. Guilty. We hang you, is authorized.’ Soldiers hold me, tie hands, then put rope on neck. Rope gets tight, pull me up. Then – I hear Her, ‘All will be right,’ and fast fall.” Johannes shivered again, this unable to hold the tin coffee mug. He rocked, whispering “all will be well, tea for Granny, no listen to sounds …”

Griffin and Sellers looked at each other in amazement. This man had no right to be living, but what had happened? “Were there other sounds, like gunfire or bayonet work? Is there anything you remember?” Just then, in the doorway, Collins waved a message form urgently at Griffin.

“Nein, nein! No, no want to hear again. Granny kind to me, good Granny; angry, at Leutnant. Sounds …” Johannes whimpered, then turned a mottled gray and fell out of the chair.

“MEDIC!”

To be continued!